


Part of Your Realm

by erinville99



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Falling In Love, First Meetings, Princess Emma Swan, Shipwreck, Young Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Young Emma Swan, betrothal, castle by the sea
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:36:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28499172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erinville99/pseuds/erinville99
Summary: Princess Emma finds an unconscious man shipwrecked on the shores of Misthaven. She nurses him back to health to discover he's a dashing scoundrel of a pirate. Too bad she's in an arranged betrothal to someone else...
Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You might find some inspiration from a "mermaid" film if you squint...

She trudges barefoot along the eastern shores of Misthaven, dragging her toes in the cold, wet sand. The beach isn’t as pristine as usual, but she can expect no less after the sudden spring storms that rolled in last night. The princess longs to find clarity and solace in her favorite spot in all the realms, an enormous worn boulder just on the edge of the sea. For as long as she can remember, she has sought comfort on its solid and steady surface. The sea itself is quite restless this morning with its large waves angrily crashing the shore, a perfect mirror to the emotions swirling inside the young princess.

_William,_ she thinks. _His name is Prince William._ Marrying a prince was inevitable, her royal duties preventing her from entertaining any other notion. Yet, it’s these very duties that have her filled with worry, and coaxed her out of her bed on a chilly April morning. Her parents assure her that her future husband is a good man, they would settle for no less for their only daughter. She met him at her twenty first birthday ball, nearly three months ago, but she cannot remember the exact details of his face. Many offers of marriage materialized from that event, but her parents decreed that this William would be the best match for her, securing a sought after alliance between Misthaven and the Northern Isles. Marrying a first born prince ensures that she will one day rule as queen, an opportunity that will never be provided to her here in Misthaven. _Thanks, Leo._ Thus, the acceptance letter was sealed and sent last night, securing her a future as Queen Emma of the Northern Isles. By year’s end, she would depart the only home she’s ever known, leaving her kingdom to its legitimate male heir. 

Emma tiptoes onward, ever mindful of the excess drift wood and ocean debris littering the sand. Several yards from her destination, she notices something large blocking her path. _Peculiar,_ she thinks. The closer she gets, the more human the object appears. Soon she realizes it is indeed, a man. He is lying on his stomach with his head cocked to the side. His dark hair is plastered with sand and his white tunic and black trousers are tattered beyond repair. 

“Graham! Come quick! It’s a man! I think he’s hurt.” She yells frantically at her guardian who is too far away for her liking. She kneels down at the water’s edge, in her new pink gown no less, to inspect the latest victim of the sea. She rolls him over onto his back and listens for signs of life. Tiny puffs of breath escape his chapped lips. “He’s alive! Graham, hurry up! Any other day and you’d be my shadow!” Her guardian approaches her, slightly out of breath from his unexpected jog.

“Apologies, princess. I thought you needed the extra space this morning.” He looks down at the man and wrinkles his nose. “Is he dead?”

“No, look! He’s breathing.” She traces a finger down his jaw. “He’s very handsome, don’t you think?” Graham scoffs and crosses his arms.

“Whatever you say princess, I’m no judge of male beauty.” She ignores him and lays her palm flat over the stranger’s chest, frowning when she notices his heartbeat isn’t quite the strong thud it should be.

“We have to get him back to the castle. He’ll die out here!” She pleads desperately to Graham, knowing that speed is essential.

“And how do you suppose we do that? Carry him?” His voice elevates an octave as he questions the princess’ sanity. Ever the stubborn regal, she plants her fists at her sides.

“If you don’t want to help me, I’ll carry him myself.” Graham knows she is obstinate enough to try.

“Fine. Here, help me get him up.” Graham manages to lift the man’s torso and he and Emma are able to haul him to his feet, each of them draping one of his arms around their shoulders. It’s not easy toting the dead weight, but with the two of them, they make it up the shore. Just outside the castle her father, King David, spots them right away from his courtyard view.

“Good heavens, are you carrying an unconscious man?!” His wife grips his arm and gasps. Shipwrecked visitors aren’t exactly a common occurrence at the palace.

“Yes! We need help, daddy!” The king runs out to meet them, replacing Emma on the right side of the waterlogged traveler. They manage to drag him to a guest chamber on the main floor as some of the servants curiously gather around him, igniting whispers into the inevitable fire of gossip. The head chef of the castle, a woman affectionately known as Granny, enters the room and shoos them all away. Emma remains steadfast, refusing to leave his side.

“Best you be going, princess. I’m going to get him out of these wet clothes and start a fire. I don’t want to scandalize you.” Emma always appreciates how the woman never panders to nonsense, yet can maintain a playful tone.

“I’m fine, Granny. I truly wish to stay and help.” She looks to her father for approval and he gives her a slight nod and steps out, closing the door behind him.

“Princess Emma. Which task do you prefer, stoking a fire or stripping his clothes?” The princess blushes at her blunt question. She can’t very well say she wishes to undress him, but her curiosity pushes her response toward the dark haired stranger. She wrings her hands and looks to Granny expectantly.

“Tell you what, sweetie. I’ll fetch some kindling for the fire, why don’t you see to this fella and maybe add some extra blankets to the bed. Will that work?” Emma quickly nods her head in reply. The minute Granny steps out, she exhales a shaky breath, pondering how his sleeping form could have her so rattled. She feels it’s only polite to conduct an introduction.

“Hello, there, sir. I’m Princess Emma. It’s lovely to meet you. I’m going to get you out of those wet clothes. Wow, your body is freezing!” She steadies her hand enough to cut the tunic from his body, pulling it free, and throwing it on the floor with a wet splat. He is clearly young and fit, with a small smattering of dark chest hair adorning his chest. This intrigues her greatly. The only man she’s seen shirtless is her father, and his chest is relatively smooth. Her fingers are itching to reach out and touch him, but she doesn’t dare. She briefly ponders if her husband will have chest hair as well. _If so, what color?_ The stranger abruptly shivers from the cold air of the room.

“Oh, it’s okay, I’ll get you out of these trousers and you’ll feel better.” Her hands shake nervously again as she reaches for the top button. She gently undoes it and steadies herself as the second and third follow. She pulls them down, unintentionally pulling his white linen drawers down with them. She gasps and closes her eyes as she finishes extricating them from his body. She only casts one downward glance while pulling the duvet up to his neck. “Wow. Sorry about that. I’m sure if you have a wife, she wouldn’t have appreciated that gesture. But, then again, if I had a husband, I’d just wish him to be cared for.” She gazes at him tucked safely in the bed. He really is a handsome man, with so many dark features. From his hair, to his eyebrows, to the scruff of his jaw and those full lips, everything about him seems inviting, yet dangerous. Emma imagines his eyes being light, to set a striking contrast to his features. “You sir, are a ladies man. I can tell by the look of you.” She softy brushes the hair out of his eyes. “And you need a good haircut.” Granny chooses this moment to place her hand on Emma’s shoulder, nearly making her jump out of her skin.

“Did you get em' ready, Emma?” The older woman smirks knowingly at her.

“Y-yes. He’s still very cold.”

“Well, this one is lucky to be alive. Especially if he was sailing out in that storm last night.” Granny makes her way to the fireplace, setting the kindling and lantern at her feet.

“Will he be alright, Granny?”

“Hard to say, darling. The next twenty-four hours will be crucial, I’d think. The main thing will be getting his body temperature up. This fire should help.” Emma assists Granny with setting the kindling and in minutes the room is filled with a warm orange glow. “I need to get back to the kitchen, sweet girl. The king has fetched Dr. Whale, he should be here within the next couple hours. Do you want to keep this fella company or should I find a maid?”

“I’ll stay. I can read by the fire until Victor gets here.”

“Very well, Princess.” Granny nods and takes her leave and she is once again alone with her patient. She presses her hand to his forehead, gently pushing back more damp hair. _Definitely needs a trim._ She presses her thumb against a small cut above his eyebrow and she swears his eyes flutter. 

“Are you waking up?” _That’s gotta be a good sign, right?_ He mumbles something in his sleep, but she can’t discern the words.

“What’s your name? Can you tell me your name, sir?” Nothing.

“I see. You’re a stubborn man. That’s alright, I’m a bit stubborn myself.” She reaches for a book on a nearby shelf and begins reading aloud from it at the base of the hearth. His features seem to relax with every word that leaves her mouth. She gets so comfortable with him, that she scoots a stool next to the bed and leans her elbows on the white down duvet. The crackling of the fire coupled with its soft warm glow soothes her nerves. She didn’t notice that she was slightly chilled herself until the heat of the room persuaded a gentle sigh from her. She swears the man releases a deep breath as well. “Oh, you’ll love this next chapter, this is where the pirate kidnaps the princess. Don’t worry though, the princess can hold her own.” The words flow from her lips and she knows that he can hear her, he has to. She simply can’t be imagining the twitching of his lips and eyebrows. “Awe, I love this part. Listen, this is where the pirate kisses the princess. He sweeps her off of her feet quite literally and it's so romantic, though the next part I’ll not read aloud.” She looks up from the pages. “Have you ever kissed someone?” No response, so she responds for him. “Of course you have. I sadly, have not, at least not beyond a chaste press.” She finds a stopping place and closes her book, laying it on the bed. It’s then that he turns on his side and surprises her as his lids flutter open briefly enough to reveal a gorgeous pair of blue eyes. “See. I was right. You, sir, are unfairly attractive.” He smiles and his eyes slowly close again, just as Dr. Whale bursts into the room with the grace of a hurricane, rudely ushering Emma out. Something about that man always infuriated her. So, she decides to join her mother in the study.

“Ah, darling. How is our patient? You were in there for quite a long time.” _Was I?_

“He’s okay, mom, he did open his eyes for a bit.”

“Well, I certainly hope he’ll pull through.” She looks down and notices Emma’s ruined gown and lack of shoes and scolds her. “Emma, another one? What will you do in the Northern Isles, darling? You will be a queen sooner than you can imagine; the king isn’t well. The people will not want a queen with soiled gowns and dirt under her nails. As a leader you must maintain the highest level of decorum.”

“Mother, I know this. You’ve beat it into my head since birth.” She crosses her arms against her chest. This is a speech she gets on a regular basis, only it feels different this time, because it is no longer hypothetical. Her mother gently takes her hands in hers.

“It’s an honor to marry a prince and become ruler of a kingdom. He requested your hand because he saw a woman of refinement and grace. He doesn’t want a barefoot hooligan, Emma.” Something about this rubs her the wrong way. She shouldn't have to lose her home and change who she is for the likes of men.

“Then, perhaps Prince William needs to pick a new bride. I didn’t ask to be born into royalty. I didn’t ask for any of this. If he can’t accept me for who I am, then that’s his problem, not mine.” She turns and walks back inside as politely as she can. Her father is talking to Victor and he shakes the doctor’s hand before approaching her.

“Dr. Whale says the man’s fate will likely be determined tonight. His body temperature is still low and his pulse is very weak. If he makes it till morning, his chances are good. He did recommend that someone should massage his extremities to help the blood circulate.”

“I can-”

“No, you will not! Granny has some of the maids helping out. This drifter isn’t your concern or your responsibility, you haven’t even eaten today! By the way, where in the realms are your shoes?” She retreats to her rooms for a pair of shoes, but leaves the gown on to rattle her mother. While brushing the knots out of her hair, she is suddenly hit with a wave of jealousy. She wants to be the one who helps the drifter and massages life into his freezing limbs. She pictures the giddy young maids pawing at him and it disgusts her.

After a hearty meal, she spends the rest of the day in a haze. Her mother can only speak of the wedding, of colors and flowers and who to invite, as well as names of future grandchildren, so she avoids her at all costs. Feeling suffocated, she retreats to her happy place. The sun is high now and its rays warm her cheeks. A soft spring breeze whispers through her hair, bringing a smile to her face. She reaches down to remove her flats, unceremoniously chucking them onto a sandbank. _To hell with it!_ The walk to her boulder is much less eventful this time around. She sits upon it and gazes out into the sea, until Graham snaps her out of her reverie.

“Oye, you left me again. The king will skin me alive if anything happens to you.” He climbs on top of the rock with her. “No bodies this time?”

“No.” She tucks her knees up to her chin.

“What are you thinking about? The wedding?”

“Sort of. Mother spooked me when she mentioned me producing heirs. Do you think he will want children straight away?”

“I haven’t a clue. If he’s a man of honor, you’ll get a say in the matter.”

“But...I will have to _lay_ with him. How can I lay with a man I do not love?” Her guardian’s eyes are as wide as saucers.

“Yikes, this is where I see my way out of _this_ conversation.” He pulls away as if to leave and she puts her hand atop his.

“I’m serious, Graham.” He squeezes her hand.

“Emma, you’ve read too many romance novels. Real life isn’t grand gestures and being swept off of your feet. When duty calls, you answer it, plain and simple.”

“What about love?”

“You’ll grow to be fond of him.”

“Fondness isn’t the same as love.” He rubs his temples with his fingertips. He knows she’s right, of course.

“At least be thankful they’ve picked a good man, you could be betrothed to someone cruel, or extremely old, or a widower needing a replacement wife.” She doesn’t acknowledge him, but stares blankly into the sea. He exhales the breath that he’s been holding. “You just want to feel it, don’t you?”

“Feel what?”

“That _feeling,_ you know. That swirling in your gut, the swooping in your stomach, the tingles down your spine from mere press of lips. When a kiss is right, you feel it everywhere that matters.”

“What if I never feel that?”

“Then, I will pity you, Emma. Truly. I pray that the man you marry will be the man of your dreams, but if he’s not, I pray that you feel that feeling, even just once.”

“Have you ever felt it?”

“Yes." He pauses, mindful of what he's disclosing. "There’s a lass in the village I simply adore. In fact, as soon as I get you married off, I’m leaving the palace to be with her.”

“You rascal! I had no idea. I’m happy for you, Graham.”

“Yeah, but it’s proving quite difficult to marry off a shrew!”

“Hey!” She pushes him from the boulder and he lands in the sand with a thump.

“Ouch, what the hell did I land on?” He reaches beneath him to feel the hilt of a sword. He pulls it out to reveal a handcrafted broadsword. “Wow. Now this is a beautiful piece of weaponry! I wonder if it belongs to your sleeping boyfriend?” Her stomach swoops at the mention of the word. She takes the sword and inspects it. It is indeed, a fine weapon. The hilt is engraved with the words: _To My Sweet_ _Killian._

“Killian.” She tries the word on her tongue for the first time and finds it rolls off of it with ease. “Yes. He looks like a Killian to me. Do you suppose he has a wife?” Graham laughs a deep belly laugh.

“You should see your face. You’re totally smitten, Em. It’s kind of cute, really. Certainly refreshing from the way you usually treat men.”

“I hate you.” She sticks her tongue out at him. When she marries, she’ll likely never see him again and that weighs heavily on her heart. Through and through, he’s her best friend. 

“Nah, you don’t. I do need to get you home though.” Graham insists on carrying the sword for her.

She doesn’t get to see _him_ except for a brief exchange before bed when she props his assumed sword against the corner of the room. He looks peaceful snuggled into the bed. His skin is warm and his heartbeat feels strong. Before she leaves, she whispers to him.

“Goodnight, Killian.” Yes, that feels right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

That unseasonably cold spring night proves to be a bitter one, indeed. Emma wakes up shivering, even through a multitude of blankets. She starts to light a fire, but immediately thinks of _him_. “Oh Gods, please be okay.” Damning all princess decorum, she throws on her favorite robe and sneaks out of her room, clad only in that and her nightgown.

Sure enough, his room is dark with the exception of her lantern. The fire is out and she can hear his teeth chattering from the doorway. Upon further inspection, she notices his lips have a bluish tint. _No no no! You’re not dying on me!_ Emma rushes to the hearth to start another fire for him. She barely ignites the kindling before she hears a pained moan reach her ears. His entire body is shaking. She massages his fingertips like the maids did earlier, but there is no change in his condition. _He needs body heat!_ On instinct , she removes her robe and nightgown. She pulls back the covers and slides into bed with him. She holds him close, pulling his back to her chest and sharing every ounce of her body’s warmth. His skin is cold and clammy, but she nestles him closer, squeezing his waist for dear life. She expects the gritty feel of sand, but his back is smooth. _Someone bathed him._ She pulls the covers tightly around them until slowly but surely, his body stops shaking. When his heart settles into a steady rhythm, she finds herself being lulled into slumber.

She wakes with a strong male arm around her waist and a nose nuzzling in her hair. She thinks he’s asleep and begins to make her escape, until a pair of lips press into the crook of her neck. She freezes and reluctantly turns around to meet those baby blues again, this time wide awake and very alert.

“Hello, lass. Forgive me, you’ll have to tell me your name. I don’t remember much about last night. Must’ve been one hell of a night, aye?” His accent is as smooth as silk, rendering the princess immobile.

“I, well, uh-” He presses her gently to the mattress and hovers over her, eyes thick with lust.

“Gods, you’re absolutely stunning! Remind me to have August plan all of my birthday outings.” _Ladies man...dammit! I was hoping I was wrong about that._ All coherent thoughts betray her as he hikes one of her legs up to his waist and starts leaving open mouthed kisses down the expanse of her neck. His scruff feels delightful, but she has to keep her wits about her. _Is his hand on my bottom?!_

“Wait!” He immediately stops his ministrations and looks down at her. He may be a complete cad, but the sincerity in his eyes takes her breath away. They lay there for several moments locked in a heated gaze. Her pulse quickens and she knows he can feel it by the way his pupils dilate. She argues with herself over whether she should slap him or kiss him as her eyes drop to his mouth. At some point she thinks _screw it,_ and pulls his lips down to meet hers. He tries to take control, but she never relinquishes, biting down on his lower lip. If he feels her inexperience, he never lets on.

“Bloody hell, you are a goddess!” Their mouths meet again, this time she allows his tongue to slide against hers. Her body unconsciously writhes against his and he reciprocates. His hands are wandering effortlessly and one in particular is dangerously close to her inner thigh. The thought crosses her mind that she’s sharing her body with a total stranger, and it frightens her how natural he feels against her. The sensations coursing through her body are unparalleled, especially as he dips his mouth and tongue to her breasts. She wants to scream his name, but isn’t quite certain what it is.

“Is your name, Killian?” He releases one of her buds with a pop.

“Aye, that’s me. Forgive me, love. I don’t remember yours.”

“I’m Emma.”

“And Em-ma, this is your bed, I presume?” He’s breathless and his eyes are dark and wild. That damned too long hair is completely disheveled. His lips travel south and her whole body quivers with anticipation.

“N-no.” He freezes. “No, this isn’t my bed, I mean.” A giggle prompts a wicked grin from him as he drags his lips slowly down her ribcage. “Don’t stop, Killian.” She latches onto his dark mop and holds on for dear life as his tongue dances across her skin, headed to her most intimate of places. _He’s going for it. Do I want this? Maybe just this once._ Her body becomes warm and achy, and she’s putty in his hands by the time he makes contact. He growls in the most delightful of ways as she thrusts up into his mouth. When he puts pressure on her sensitive nub, first with his tongue, then with his thumb, swirling it in expert circles with the perfect amount of pressure. She feels her spine tingle and the tightly wound coil inside of her snaps, leaving her panting, throbbing, and boneless.

“Are you finished with me lass, or do you want me inside of you?” As she comes down from her high, she snaps into panic mode.

“I can’t! I’m still a maiden!” He quirks up an eyebrow at her.

“What on earth is an unclothed maiden doing in bed with a naked man? Did I leave you unsatisfied last night?”

“No, nothing like that. I mean, not really. You were alone last night, And we didn’t meet, ah, formally.” She fidgets and sits up, forgetting that her chest is bare. She covers her breasts with her hands as her bedmate snorts at her. “Don’t laugh at me, sir!” She climbs out of bed, but her legs give out and she hits the floor. The smug bastard peeks over the mattress and grins.

“Are you okay, darling? Best wait till the blood returns to your limbs.” He winks at her. The son of a bitch winks at her. She huffs and throws on her gown and robe, while he lies back on the bed with his arms crossed behind his head, naked as a newborn babe.

“Listen, you! I saved your life yesterday morning. Had it not been for me, you’d still be facedown on the Misthaven shores!” He chuckles at her finger wagging.

“Instead I ended up face down on...bloody hell, did you say Misthaven?” His face sobers instantly. “Shite! That’s a bit off course. How the fuck did I end up in Misthaven?” He scratches at his scruff before appraising her and licking his lips, turning his charm back on. “Not that I wouldn’t follow a woman as beautiful as you to the ends of the realms, darling.” He bites on his lower lip and quirks a dark eyebrow. Self assurance is oozing from his pores as he appraises her. “And I think you’ve been properly thanked, love.” He ends the comment by making a kissy face. _How dare he!_ She stomps and growls, which only makes him chortle.

“I have never been spoken to in such an impertinent manner!”

“Do you expect any less from a pirate?” She is taken aback. 

“A-a pirate? I was in bed with a pirate?”

“‘Fraid so, lass. Captain Killian Jones to be exact. Though, I’ve drifted more than expected. Misthaven wasn’t on my purview.”

“So, did your ship wreck?”

“Wreck? My Jolly is immune to the dangers of the sea. I must’ve gotten drunk and knocked overboard.”

“You don’t sound like much of a captain to me.” She crosses her arms proudly.

“I’m a hell of a captain! I don’t have any complaints about my vessel, either.”

“Gah! You’re gross!” She throws her nightgown hastily over her head.

“Don’t knock it till you’ve taken a ride yourself.” _That does it, you scoundrel!_ She climbs on the bed and sits on her knees. 

“Listen, you-you stupid pirate! The only reason I’m not beating the life from you right now is because I’ve spent the last twenty four hours ensuring your survival. Don’t make me regret it!” He pulls her onto his lap, her legs on either side of his waist as he sits up fully, nuzzling her ear.

“Gods, I want you! You are an exquisite creature.” His thumb brushes across her lower lip, making her tremble. _Damn traitorous body!_ “I can still taste you on my tongue, darling. Tell me you want me.” His right hand squeezes her backside while his left continues to ghost across her lips. He doesn’t press her further, allowing her to make the decision to join their lips entirely hers. She leans forward to close the gap between them, connecting her lips to his once more. When he dips his tongue inside her mouth, she can taste her essence on him. It spurs her on and she winds her hands in his hair, pressing her body impossibly close to his. She mewls when he kneads her bottom with both hands. She’s lost to the sensations coursing throughout her body. The feeling of him hard and throbbing beneath her thighs stirs up feelings she didn’t know she was capable of. She’s so lost, that she barely hears the tap of the door.

“Emma? Is that you in there?” She rights herself as much as possible disconnecting the kiss and making a soft whine escape him. She scurries off the bed. There’s no possible way she can hide her kiss swollen lips, but she can certainly try.

“Yes, it’s me, Granny. I’m just checking on our guest.”

“Are you...decent?” 

“Yes!” Emma opens the door. Granny stands there with her hands on her hips, scolding her with a look. 

“Best be off with you in that state of dress, missy!” Emma is busted and she knows it. She can only hope that Granny will be discreet with her findings.

“Yes, ma’am.” She looks to Killian once more, closing the door behind her. Yet, she lingers, listening in on what the elderly woman has to say to her pirate.

“And you sir, glad to see you pulled through, but I’d think twice about putting your hands on the princess of Misthaven.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”

“Drop the act, Mr. Innocent. Don’t think I can’t smell the sex in here. Princess Emma is a sweet girl, she doesn’t need to be defiled by the likes of you. By the way, here are some clothes. Put them on and I’ll send someone to fetch you in a few minutes for breakfast.” She angrily chucks the clothes at him.

“I’m sorry. Have I wronged you somehow?”

“No, but I know your type. You strike me as a careless rogue, capable of bedding a woman, but never fully giving her your heart.”

“You got all of that from looking at me?”

“That, and I’ve been outside that door awhile. I won’t tell the king and queen that they’re harboring a criminal within their walls.”

“Why protect me?”

“Because I see the way that girl looks at you. Treat her like a lady or I’ll chop off your cockles and serve them to you!”

“Wait, did you say Emma is a princess?”

“I did. She’s the crowned princess of Misthaven, and engaged to another I might add.”

“Bloody hell!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our poor pirate has his work cut out for him from here on out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma resists the charms of their new guest, though he proves to be persistent.

She bounds up the palace stairs two at a time and eases her chamber door open and closed. Haphazardly launching herself under the covers, she tries to cast the illusion of a peaceful night's slumber. _If mother only knew._ It's a handful of minutes, at best, before Emma's longstanding maid, Ashley, arrives to awaken and dress her. The princess exerts extra time and care in selecting her wardrobe for the day, ultimately deciding on a silky blue gown that shows a little more cleavage than she usually allows. Opting to leave her hair down, she delights in her blonde curls cascading around her. She yearns for _his_ masculine fingers to thread through the golden stands once more, and she tingles from the thought. Her own giddy reflection reveals an irreversibly pleasant glow to her cheeks. _All a result of temporary insanity. What was I thinking?_ Gently pressing her fingertips to the apples of them, she imagines the slight scruff of his jawline brushing against hers. A pleasant shiver unfurls through her body, doing little to shake her from her lust induced stupor. She's touched herself before, of course, but it's never felt as glorious as Killian's mouth upon her. While a dalliance with a pirate isn’t something she ever planned on having, there’s something about those eyes, so bright and blue, that she can drown in. She waits for the guilt of this morning's activities to fully seep into her consciousness, but it never does. _And never will._

Yet, she knows she cannot allow herself to be further tempted into a physical relationship with him. It’s risky and incredibly foolish to give into the baser urges of intimacy with another, urges that have always evaded the young princess until this morning. _Right, I will apologize and that will be the end of it. I can lock his memory in my heart and save it for warmth on lonely nights._

Joining her family for a late breakfast, she’s shocked to see Killian sitting in the dining hall like an honored guest. He’s chatting so animatedly that her parents’ heads are thrown back in laughter. He stops briefly to lock eyes with her and she suddenly has to catch her breath. Certain he is affected as well, she swears she sees him blush-a sweet warm blush that reaches the pointed tips of his ears. Her mother is the one to break the spell, and not a moment too soon, for her heart has already begun to flutter at the mere sight of him. 

“Emma, dear, I’d like you to formally meet Mr. Killian Jones.” He quickly (and slightly clumsily) stands to face her, like a gentleman of the court would. She extends her hand and he kisses the back of it. The contact warms her all the way to her toes. “Killian, this is our daughter, Emma. She’s the one who discovered you yesterday.”

“Then, I’m grateful to you, your highness.” He slightly bows his head and squeezes her fingers. His actions appear chaste and honorable, but his eyes have a primal look about them, as if he wants to take her to a secluded corridor and throw her dress over her head. It shocks her when she realizes she wouldn’t be opposed. _No, Emma! You mustn’t think like that!_

“Oh! I know,” says the queen, clapping her hands together. “Why don’t you and Graham take Killian on a tour of the kingdom today? He will be staying with us until we can make contact with his family. He can’t waste away all day from boredom, after all.” Emma is stunned at how quickly her parents have warmed up to him. They usually only accept dignitaries so readily. _This man certainly has a golden tongue._ She retrieves her hand from his and smooths the front of her gown. He pulls out the chair next to him and she takes a seat.

“Are you sure you’re strong enough, Mr. Jones? After your ordeal, I would think your limbs would be quite weak. It is a large kingdom, after all.” She’s flirting. She knows she is, but Gods help her, she loves it.

“Nothing like a good meal to replenish your strength, milady. You look quite hungry as well, have you been active this morning?” She flushes crimson at his insinuation. No man of court would dare to be so bold with her.

"I'm fond of early morning walks on the beach," she stutters. Her father eyes her warily.

"Emma. You know how I feel about you walking alone. A chaperone needs to be present at all times."

"Yes, I know." She looks to Killian with his too long dark hair and she desperately desires to brush the unruly strands away from his eyes. "We mustn't forget though, that it was my walk that saved a man's life, father." The king smiles and nods to her as the cooking staff files in the dining hall. When the meal is served and her parents start to discuss diplomacy matters, Killian leans closely to her; so close, his breath tickles the shell of her ear.

“We both know, I’m not the one with weak limbs, darling.” Her brother, Leo, eyes them from across the table and coughs uncomfortably.

“Killian, are you married?” Leo abruptly asks. The pirate chuckles to himself.

“Alas, I am not.” He throws his hands up, as if conceding defeat. “I sadly haven’t met the right woman yet. I’ve only just turned twenty, I reckon there is time.” _Twenty? Who resorts to piracy at such a young age? And why?_

“That’s what Emma always said too, until she accepted _her_ proposal.” _Why, that little shite!_ Killian turns to her with curious, yet understanding eyes.

“Aye, I’ve heard as such. Congratulations on your impending nuptials. It is indeed a lucky man who has won your heart, princess.”

“My heart is my own, sir. And technically the acceptance letter was only sent yesterday, I doubt he has even received the news of my acceptance.” She lowers her head with shame. She can only imagine how she must appear to him, as nothing more than a harlot, looking for cheap thrills before walking down the aisle. Perhaps that is exactly what she is, and that fills her with endless regret. Leo sends her a quizzical gaze that doesn’t escape Killian’s notice.

“And you, Prince Leopold, is there a fair maiden on your horizon? No doubt women would line up in droves to inherit such a beautiful kingdom?” 

“I have offers, but as you said, what’s the rush?” As Leo dives into his meal, Killian hesitates before addressing the young prince again.

“Yet, I get the impression Emma didn’t get the luxury of leisure in choosing a lifelong mate, did she?” No one has ever spoken to her brother so brazenly and a part of her is beaming with pride for Killian. Leave it to a pirate to have no tact. Leo is squeezing his fork harder than necessary as Killian continues. "Why, I’d wager that you’re lucky to have a sister with a kind heart, a lesser woman would stab you in your sleep, mate. A kingdom this beautiful is worth fighting for.” He winks at Leo and Emma can’t help but grin. Leo's composure cracks, his jaw ticking madly. It took the pirate the duration of one simple meal to find and exploit her brother's biggest weakness, his temper.

Moments later, when she's nibbling on her toast, she feels something brush against her knee. She sneaks a glance to her lap and finds his fingers grazing the soft blue fabric of her gown. Her knee leans into his touch and he places his opened hand upon it. Just when she gets her breathing under control, his fingers boldly slide a tad higher on her thigh and inch their way inward. Startled at first, she relaxes into his touch, disappointed that she can’t feel the full warmth from his palm through her many layers. A soft smile settles on her face. Though it's scandalous meal behavior, she feels safe with him next to her. This feeling of security prompts her to glide her left hand under the table and interlock her fingers with his. She doesn't have to look at him to know he's wearing a ridiculous grin. 

“What is your trade, Killian?” Leo asks, bursting their euphoric bubble.

"I'm sorry, what was that, mate?" He retracts his hand as if burned.

"Leopold! Stop it with the interrogation! His profession is none of your business." A hard look from her does little to deter the prince from his line of questioning.

“Well, I’m afraid I'm merely a lowly sailor,” Killian interjects.

“Pity, I’ve yet to meet a sailor that was anything more than a foul mouthed womanizer.” Emma angrily kicks at his shins from under the dining room table, rattling the glasses and silverware. Her parents look up to investigate.

"Sorry, mom. I-uh, crossed my legs and bumped the table."

"Emma, dear, a lady crosses at the ankle, not the knee."

"Yes, mother." She gives Leo one extra kick for good measure. Killian takes the high road and refrains from speaking, though she knows a clever retort is on his lips. _His full, totally kissable, lips._ Moments later, he rises from the table and excuses himself. 

“Thank you for this fine meal, I’m going back to my room for a bit. I'm afraid my head a still a bit swimmy. When I return I’ll be ready for that tour, Princess Emma.” He bows, honest to goodness bows to her. He picks up her hand and kisses the back of it again before exiting, and she’s desperate to follow him. The prince and princess finish their meals in silence after their guest departs. Leo is the next to excuse himself. Emma follows suit, but is stopped by her mother.

“Emma, I would like to see you tomorrow at noon in the sitting room for a dress fitting.” She could turn this into a fight, but politely agrees with a small curtsey. Presently, she has other plans. She follows her dear brother to a deserted hallway and slams him against the stone wall with both hands. His head thuds roughly and it doesn't escape her that she's accosting the future king of Misthaven.

“Leopold James! Why did you say those things to him? You weren't at all amiable!”

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you. Better to be honest from the start, don’t you agree, sister. If he’s a man of honor, he won’t go near you.”

“Did you ever think that maybe I want him to go near me? He's a good man!” He laughs at her.

“He’s rude and uncouth! Did you hear how he spoke to me? Sailors don't address dignitaries in that manner, sister!”

“He was merely speaking the truth! I lost my home the day you were born.” She backs away from him with a sigh, wishing she hadn't waited seventeen years to have this conversation.

“So you wish me dead? Wonderful.” He crosses his arms in the same pouty way he did at age six.

“Of course not, but he’s right about the obligations of being female, obligations you’ll never understand, Leo. I don’t get the same opportunities as you!”

“Nonsense. No one is forcing you into marriage, so drop the pitiful act.” His pompous attitude has always gotten under her skin, but this is too far.

“You must know the older I get, the less prospects I have. I can’t offer a kingdom like you can! I must rely on my title and virtue. At least Killian understands this.”

“Wait, wait, wait, hold on! Do you like him?” She looks to the ground. “You do! A complete rogue? Emma, you’re a future queen, raise your standards. He only wants under your skirts. That is, if he hasn't been there already!” She slaps him in his smug teenaged face and runs in the opposite direction. She’s never struck anyone before, let alone her baby brother. He'll surely tattle on her, but she can't bring herself to care at the moment.

She stomps out of the room in a huff, kicking off her shoes somewhere between the east and west wings of the castle. The weight of the past twenty-four hours suddenly hits her, and a teary eyed princess slumps down a secluded wall until her hands meet the cold tile floor. She allows herself a moment to let the sobs wrack her body. Maybe she could run away? Perhaps Killian could steal her away from the madness that is her life. She could live on the open sea, couldn't she? Her thoughts are interrupted by a rich accented voice. She looks up and standing above her is a handsome pirate with both of her shoes dangling from his fingers.

“You’re not a fan of footwear, are you, lass?” He places them beside her as she scoffs.

“No, I’m afraid not.” He nods and paces front of her, scratching his chin as if he’s solving a great mystery.

“I understand, truly. Lemme guess. You aren’t the type who likes to be held down. You want to be free. You want your “feet” to be unencumbered.” The bastard quirks an eyebrow at her.

“How could you possibly know that?”

“Have you ever heard of the term “open book?" Besides, I'm fairly knowledgeable of familial obligations." He offers her a handkerchief and his hand. She accepts both and he pulls her to her feet. “If I’m not mistaken, this passage leads to the top of a turret, yeah?”

“Yes. Would you like to go up and get wider view of Misthaven, Captain Jones?”

“Aye, perhaps I would. Though my current view is delectable!” His eyes drift to her bosom and he runs his tongue across his lower lip, drawing her eyes to that soft pink tongue. She dares not close her eyes, for she knows the thoughts that mouth of his will evoke. With shaky limbs, she accepts his arm and allows him to escort her up the winding staircase.

“So, Mr. Jones, how ever did you find me?”

“Easy. I heard you arguing with the prince and followed the sound of clicking heels. Your brother is a ponce by the way.” She snickers.

“Yeah, he is." Arm in arm, they reach the top and the warm spring air invigorates her lungs. She releases him and steps to the far wall. "Thank you, for what you said to him. No one around here understands my plight.” 

“You’re welcome, lass." He steps up next to her, as if the concept of personal space is completely foreign. "But, I know better ways you could thank me, lass.” He taps his lower lip with his finger and she feels the color rise to her cheeks. As tempting as those lips are, she clears her throat and changes the subject.

“So, you-ah, sent word to your family?”

“Pssshht, hardly. Pirates don’t have families. Your mother helped me send a message to my first mate, August, via a small bird of some sort. Fear not, I imagine I’ll be out of your hair in a few days, lass."

“Oh.” Her face falls, betraying her feelings on the matter. He smirks. _Does the man miss nothing?_ “You know, I rarely come up here. I forget how beautiful the kingdom really is, especially during the spring bloom.” They lean on the edge, side by side, wordlessly gazing out at the sea. “I’ll bet you’re ready to get your sea legs back?”

“Aye. A better question of legs would be how you ended up with yours tangled with mine this morning. Tell me, how did I find the royal princess of Misthaven pressed against me in the most intimate of ways, darling?”

“Gah! It's not as salacious as you make it out to be. Your-uh, body temperature was having a difficult time regulating itself. I shared my body heat to keep you alive.”

“A huge sacrifice on your part, I’m sure.” He winks. It is this moment she's convinced that Killian could hold an entire conversation with his eyes. This particular conversation has taken a dangerous turn. She has to end this-whatever this is.

“It's true. You could have died, Killian! My intentions were honorable, though I fear I risked a great matter of things this morning against my better judgement! Are you calling me a liar, sir?”

“No, I’m calling you smitten.” He inches as close to her as humanly possible, boldly tapping her nose with his index finger.

“Smitten, as if I’d ever be smitten by a pirate! Why I-” Her words are cut off by him softly pressing his lips to hers. His palms cup her now emblazoned cheeks as she responds to his advances with a soft moan. The kiss is slow and deep, the languid pace the complete opposite of this morning. When he sighs, her hands find purchase on his waist, desperately pulling his body flush to hers. He is the first to pull away and she leans forward to chase his lips again.

“See, I told you!” She roughly pushes him away. _Arse!_

“Ugh! You are incorrigible! Kissing a woman to prove a point is bad form, indeed.” He laughs at her and grabs her wrist before she can walk away, stopping her in her tracks. He uses his leverage to gently pull her back flush against his chest. She gasps when she feels the evidence of his want for her pressing against her backside.

“I kissed you because my entire being bloody aches for you darling. I desire you, all of you, as you desire me.” She closes her eyes before pulling her wrist from his grip. She spins in his arms, his strong and safe arms that beckon her to cling to him for all eternity.

“I’m engaged to another. This morning was a mistake, one that I cannot make again. I have duties-a responsibility to my kingdom. Even I wanted-”

“So, you admit you want me," he whispers, toying with a loose tendril of her hair.

“I admit to no such thing. Look, you know you’re handsome. I’d imagine you hear it quite often. I just can’t afford to consort with a pirate, no matter how charming he is.” She takes two steps back and instantly her body yearns to return to his warmth, so she takes two more for good measure.

“Ah, but what if I were a prince? Would that better appeal to your sensibilities?” He sounds bitter, even a bit hurt.

“You’re ridiculous if you think me so shallow! Good day, Captain.” She turns to walk down the staircase back into the corridor. She picks up her shoes and carries them, rather than bend to their will. She doesn't get far before she hears footsteps behind her.

“Emma, I’m sorry if I offended you. Truly.” She stops to let him join her side.

“Well, you did. If you think I’d desire you more if you were royalty, you’re sorely mistaken. The truth is, I’ve never met a prince that saw me as anything other than a pretty face with connections to a wealthy kingdom.”

“So, you do desire my pirate side, then?”

“Killian, you're not listening! This matter isn’t about desire, it’s about propriety. I _can’t_ desire you.”

“Well, that is the most ludicrous thing I’ve ever heard. You can’t prevent your body from aching for another, or your heart for that matter.” He softly takes her hand. “This is forward, but think you and I could be made for each other.” She looks down at her bare feet, refusing to acknowledge the whisper in her heart telling her that he could be correct. “I know you feel the same.” He tilts her chin up and lightly tracks his thumb across her dimples. “I see the way your pupils dilate when our eyes meet, lass. I can hear your ragged little breaths when I whisper in your ear and feel your pulse race beneath my fingertips, even now.” He threads his fingers through her hair, cupping her face and joining their foreheads. “Gods, Emma, I can still taste your sweet nectar on my tongue. You weren’t in my plans, but I’ll be damned if I’m letting you go without a fight. Fuck propriety!” She makes the mistake of looking at his deep blue pools. Even a blind man could see the honesty in them. She expects this to be the moment where he seizes her and fully claims her as his own. She waits with bated breath for exploring hands and passion but he doesn’t advance. Instead, he surprises her with a tender kiss on the cheek and releases her. “I’ll be in my room, darling.” With that he walks down the corridor, leaving her aroused, alone, and more than a little confused.

For nearly an hour she wanders aimlessly through the castle, reflecting on their encounter in the corridor. It scares her how eagerly her body responds to him. _Thank the Gods he walked away, I didn’t have the strength to. Yet, would a truly ruthless pirate have walked away from a more than willing woman?_ Her feet have a mind of their own as they lead her in front of Killian’s door. She knocks, but he doesn’t respond. She presses her forehead to it.

“It’s me, Emma. Will you come out here, Killian? I need to speak with you and I don’t trust myself inside there.” 

“And why’s that, love?” The voice is low and sultry and is coming from directly behind her, making her skin prickle. She freezes.

“You, you’re out here?”

“Aye, I had to piss! In your abundant hospitality, you forgot to leave a man a chamber pot.” She turns and discovers he’s but mere inches away from her. _As always._

“Disgusting. Are you always so blunt?”

“No. Blunt would be telling you how beautiful you are and if you step inside this room, I’ll ruin you for all other men, your fiancé included.”

“You-you can’t say that.”

“Yes, I can. But, out of respect, I swear to you that I’ll not kiss you again until you ask me to.” He uses his nose to nuzzle her neck.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

“However, mark my words, Princess. The next time my lips meet yours, I’ll not stop until I’ve spent myself inside you.” His eyes eclipse to a midnight blue and she feels the low rumble in his chest with every syllable he produces. She gulps so loudly she knows he can hear and her most intimate parts are pulsing with desire. He backs her against the door with a gentle thud, humming low in her ear. “Just say the words, Emma, and I’m all yours.” True to his word, he doesn’t press her for more. 

“I-I can’t. I’m sorry. This morning was a mistake, and impulsive, and totally a one time thing. I don't have the heart to lead you on.” She puts her hands tentatively on his chest, giving him a gentle push backwards. He nods his head. She’s loath to admit that he looks slightly heartbroken. 

“You needn’t apologize, love.” He takes a blonde curl and wraps it around his finger, stepping back and giving her even more space. “Perhaps we can have a friendship, then. Until my mates come to retrieve me, that is.”

“Are you kidding me?! How do you shift your emotions that quickly? Two seconds ago you wanted to have your wicked way with me!”

“Oh, I still do. But, I also value good form.”

“A pirate with good form? I thought they just took what they wanted?”

“Oye, I’m a pirate, not a bloody rapist!”

“Killian, of course you’re not. I wasn’t insinuating you were. You have honor in you, I can see it. A product of your raising?”

“My mother raised me to be a gentleman.”

“So, what turned you to piracy?”

“That, my dear, is a tale for another day.”

“Fair enough. In the meantime, I accept your offer of friendship.” She extends her hand and he shakes it.

“Can I at least get you to admit that you wanted me to take you and ravish you in that corridor.”

“What? I did not!”

“Did too! You’re thinking about my body right now.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

"I don't think you know what friendship is. Friends don't think about each other's bodies."

"Then why did you not trust yourself to enter my room?"

“Oye, it’s a pair of six-year old's.” Graham approaches them, extending his hand to shake Killian’s. “I’m Graham Humbert, I helped drag your arse off the beach. You must be Sweet Killian.”

“Pardon?”

“Your sword, mate.” He scratches behind his ear.

“Oh, that! Aye, a gift from my mother.”

“Awe, see Em, it's not from a wife like you feared.” Emma is mortified and Killian’s eyes darken three shades as he wags his eyebrows at her. “Listen, I’ve been called to Glowerhaven for the next couple of days with Leo. If we're going to tour the kingdom, we need to make haste."

“Sure, mate. Allow me a few moments to right myself.”

“We'll meet you at the front doors, Killian," she says. He nods and enters his bedchamber. When the door is closed Emma exhales a shaky breath.

“What was that?!” She pushes Graham's arm in retort.

“Nothing.”

“That, Emma, didn’t look like nothing. You were two seconds from tearing off that man's clothing.”

“Hardly, Graham!" She pauses. "But, I may have kissed him.”

“Ha! That's an understatement!I hate to burst your bubble, but that man is wrecked for you and it takes a hell of a lot more than a press of chaste lips. I hope you let him down easy.”

“I tried! He says we can be friends, but I know he'll intend to fight for my affections."

"From one kiss?! Damn." He doesn't believe her, that much she does know.

"Fine. It was more than a kiss, okay! Are you satisfied?" He laughs a deep belly laugh and she can't resist a punch to his side. "It's done! Over! A momentary lapse of judgement."

"A lapse of judgement that has left you smitten! How far did it go?" She blushes.

"First of all, I hate that word-smitten. Secondly, my virtue is still in tact, if that's what you mean."

"Emma, your business is your own, but the looks exchanged back there weren't exactly subtle. He knows of your engagement, yeah?"

"Yes, and he doesn't care. Why would he? He's a pirate."

“Wow! Mommy and daddy would never approve of that!”

“So you see, I simply cannot allow his advances. No good can come of it.”

“You’re right. Worst case scenario you fall in love and become a pirate queen.” He laughs again.

“This isn’t funny.”

“Emma, relax. Just get to know the guy. Having a pirate as an ally couldn’t be a bad thing, could it?”

“I can’t believe you’re encouraging this."

"I just want your happiness, above all, Emma. I daresay, I've never seen such an idiotic smile on your face."

"Whatever." They reach the doors and wait for Killian. "What business do you have in Glowerhaven, anyway?”

“I can’t say, top secret mission from the king."

"Please?"

"You swear you won't say anything?" She nods. "There's drama afoot in the Northern Isles."   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is far from perfect, I know. Chapter 2's seem to become my nemesis for some reason...


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma takes her new guest on a tour of her kingdom.

The trio saddles up the horses and takes a leisurely ride toward the village. The king and queen always insist on taking the carriage, but Graham allows Emma to ride horseback. Her free spirit is thankful for the reprieve. He insists on stopping at a little stone cottage on the outskirts of town, where a beautiful brunette runs out to meet them. She runs into Graham’s arms and smothers him with kisses, which is sweet until her affections take a less than chaste turn. Emma’s heart fills with jealousy, not because a woman is kissing her best friend, but because the pair clearly shares the bond that she longs for most. Killian dramatically rolls his eyes and looks uncomfortably at Emma. She shrugs and coughs to get the couple’s attention.

“Oh, your highness. My apologies. I haven’t seen Graham in a fortnight. I’m Ruby.” She extends her hand then awkwardly retracts it in favor of a curtsey.

“Though I knew nothing of you until recently, it’s nice to make your acquaintance, Ruby.” The woman giggles and tucks herself into Graham’s side. 

“Yeah, he hides me away like a nasty little secret. After you find a suitable husband, he vows to step down from his duties and make an honest woman out of me.” She eyes up Killian, who is perched proudly upon his horse. “Speaking of a suitable husband, who might this handsome chap be?”

“Killian Jones, miss. Lovely to meet you. What a picturesque home you have.” The way he speaks is so regal, that she’s actually quite impressed. A pirate with etiquette is a conundrum that she still can’t wrap her head around.

“Please, you all must come inside for a visit.” The girl is eager to entertain them, but Graham is crestfallen as he kisses the back of her hand.

“I’m afraid we haven’t the time, Ruby. I’m to leave on official business in Glowerhaven at sunrise and there are errands I must complete for the king.”

“Glowerhaven!?” She rubs her hands up and down his arms, worry etched on her features. “Why would the king send you there?” He begins to answer, but promptly closes his mouth. Emma senses Graham’s unease. He is hiding something. _If something is amiss in the Northern Isles, how is the neighboring kingdom involved?_ Before her head can spin, she offers up a solution.

“Graham, why don’t you stay and catch up? Killian can escort me into town. We’ll pick you up on the way back.” His eyes light up.

“You wouldn’t mind, truly?”

“Not at all, mate,” Killian interjects. 

“I need to make a few stops for your father, but I could give you the list.” He reaches in his back pocket for the folded parchment and passes it to Killian. They bid Graham and Ruby farewell, with a promise to pick them up on the way back to the palace. He mouths a silent thanks to Emma as she and her pirate trod down the road. When the cabin is far from sight, she turns to Killian. 

“Well, that was uncomfortable. All this time, I never knew he was in love, but I’ve clearly been mistaken.”

“Ah, yes. The blush of first love is undeniable.” He speaks as if he has firsthand knowledge on the subject, and she doesn’t enjoy the way her stomach clenches in response.

“Have you ever been in love, Killian?” He smiles a knowing smile, easily reading between the lines.

“No. Though, I’ve been acquainted with many a lass. Of course, when you look like me, you can have any girl of your choosing, really.” She rolls her eyes at his candor. His teasing holds more truth than she’ll ever give him credit for, but she won’t make him privy to those thoughts.

“You’re not that good looking. You have your strong points, yes, but there’s definitely room for improvement.”

“Oye, and what would you alter about me, your highness?”

“Well, for starters, you need a haircut.” He runs his fingers through his locks, dark as coal, as shakes his head with a flourish.

“Easily remedied. Go on…”

“And you have absolutely no concept of personal space.” He smirks. “Then, there is the matter of bluntly saying whatever comes to your mind. Oh, and you have big feet!” He laughs out loud at her last criticism. They hop off of their horses and hitch them to a nearby post, just on the eastern border of the village. 

“All noted, darling. Short of cutting off a few toes, I can fulfill everything on that list. But, for the record, I think your maids would disagree with your assessments.” She freezes as her blood runs cold in her veins. _He’s been dallying with the maids?_

“What is _that_ supposed to mean!?”

“Only that when they check on me they’re quite (cough) friendly." She is shocked and hurt, though she knows she has no real claim on him. She recoils at the image of giggling maids and roaming hands. "One even stroked my hair and referred to me as _unfairly attractive._ ” 

“Fantastic, you’re bedding my maids!”

“I never said I bedded them, darling. Between being completely unconscious and you bunking with me, when would I find the opportunity?” She presses her finger into his chest.

“Ah! But you’re not refuting my claim!”

“I am certainly refuting it. I did no such thing!” He grabs her hand and pulls it to his chest, splaying her fingers just above his heart. She can feel his pulse whooshing beneath her fingers. “Jealousy is fetching on you, princess.” She jerks her hand away from his warmth. _Jealousy...preposterous!_

“I’m not jealous. Besides, that was me who made that comment, not some servant.”

“Oh, I know that. I just wanted to hear you admit it.” With a lack of weapon, she scoops up a pile of pinecones and one after another chucks them at him.

"You are an immature arsehole and now that I really know you, I take it all back!" The last pinecone strikes him right between the eyes. "Besides, you’re a free man and can take any maid you wish to bed.”

“The only woman I desire is engaged to another and sadly, doesn’t want me.” He opens and closes his fist three times before reaching for her waist and boldly pulling her body flush to his. His gaze is intense, with no small amount of heat behind it. She’s completely helpless in his arms, lost in the dizzying spell he’s placed on her. “Now, this woman knows how to kiss a man within an inch of his life and make him all but mad for her.” She can feel his breath dance across the shell of her ear and the light pressure of his hands on her hips. “She is fierce and intelligent, my true match in every way.” It is the warm, manly scent of him, like the sea on a summer day, that intoxicates her. She almost surrenders to his charm when a flock of birds flutter out of a nearby berry bush, nearly startling the wits out of her. In response, she gasps and tightly clutches to Killian on instinct. He laughs at her, breaking the spell.

“The woman you speak of doesn’t desire to be a notch in a bedpost.” She slinks away from his embrace and he puts up no resistance as she traipses onward toward the village. He stops, slightly out of breath, and leans his arm against a tree.

“Milady, then tell me more about this perfect prince you are to marry.”

“Nothing to tell. It’s a logical match, a merger of two kingdoms. Mother and father’s choice, not mine.”

“That much I figured. Tell me about _him_.”

“My twenty-first birthday ball was a few months ago. I’m fairly certain I danced with him, but I don’t know anything else, really. He’s supposed to be a good man.”

“You agreed to marry someone you don’t even remember!? If anything about him stirred up desires in you, you would surely remember him.”

“I danced with at least a dozen dignitaries, it’s impossible to remember details of one man!”

“Answer me honestly, would you have remembered _me_?”

“Maybe.” He tsks her while crossing his arms across his chest. He tucks his lower lip behind his teeth as studies her, silently pleading her for the truth. “Fine. Yes! But, only because you would have been a total nuisance, waiting around every corner to annoy me.”

“You’re probably right. But, if you ask me, these blokes are going about things the wrong way. You shouldn’t ask for someone’s hand through a letter.”

“It’s proper etiquette! He wrote to my father asking for my hand.”

“You weren’t even asked out right?! Bad form, indeed.”

“Oh yeah...then how would you do it, Mr. Salacious?”

“Easy. I wouldn’t. Plain and simple. I’m never marrying.”

“You say that now…”

“I say that, always. I grew up witnessing how unhappy my parents were. I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone.”

“But, Killian, what about love?”

“And, just like that, we’re back to discussing that _L_ word. Two people can be in love without the bonds of matrimony, Emma. Besides, no woman in her right mind would be daft enough to ever want commitment from the likes of me. Pirates are for bedding not, well, _wedding_.” She laughs out loud.

“You are utterly ridiculous, but I suppose you do have a lifetime of swashbuckling ahead of you. You’re the youngest pirate I’ve ever heard of.”

“It’s a new vocation for me.”

“What were you before becoming a pirate?”

“A sullen and morose teenager.” She laughs out loud again, and this time, he has a good chuckle himself.

`````````````````````````````````

It’s market day in the village, so they get stares and whispers everywhere they go, making Emma squirm in her own skin. The royal family travels to the villages often, so it’s not uncommon for the princess to be spotted. It is the ever so handsome mystery man beside her that is drawing the most attention. He tucks away his rogue persona for the time being. Emma nearly forgets their social standings as they visit the various shops, huts, and stands. He holds his head high and presents himself to others with poise and confidence. Most of all, she watches him as he interacts with her people. He is ever so kind to each and every person he encounters. He flirts with the ladies selling tomatoes and has to be tugged away from his in depth conversation with the tailor about sheep rearing. But, it is when he charms the baker’s wife into a free apple tart and then gives it away to two young peasant children that steals her heart. He didn’t think she was looking. She was.

“What is the next stop, love?” He pulls out the parchment and crosses the baker off the list. “It just says _blacksmith.”_ She takes the list and examines it.

“Graham wants us to pick up his new dagger. Good, I quite enjoy the blacksmith.” 

“Why? Does he have short hair and small feet?”

“No. He always lets me slip behind the shop and try out the latest swords. I’m quite adept with swordplay you know.”

“Ah, a lady after my own heart, I’d be happy to spar with you darling.” He smirks at her, embellishing his charm by kissing her inner wrist. She feels the scruff from his facial hair and closes her eyes to savor the feeling.

“Princess Emma! Is that you? It’s been so long! I didn’t have an order for you, did I?” He kisses the back of her hand.

“Not since my dagger for my 21st. It was beautiful, Bae!”

“I’m glad you liked it. I have a new longsword if you and Graham-wait! Where’s your guardian? You’re going to cause a scandal out here alone.” Killian coughs and steps between them, shaking the stranger’s hand.

“Killian Jones at your service. I’m in charge of the princess today.” Bae’s face falls. 

“I’m actually here to pick up Graham’s order.”

“Yes, of course, it’s ready. I’ll go fetch it for you, unless you want to accompany me. As I was saying, I have some new longswords.”

“Oh, well…”

“We’ll wait here, mate!” Bae leaves the pair as he retrieves their order.

“Jealousy is fetching on you, _love.”_ she teases with an imitation of his accent.

“Nothing about that man's intentions are humorous.” 

“What is your problem? My father gets all of his sword work done with Baelfire.”

“The problem is he clearly wants to show you the craftsmanship of _his_ sword.” She chuckles, because he couldn't be more wrong. Could he?

“Nonsense, I've known him since we were children.”

“Darling, I can say with certainty _that man_ wants you and he wouldn't hesitate to take advantage of a naïve young woman. He would’ve made a move had I not been here. Did you see the way his face lit up when he thought you were alone?”

“Fine. Maybe you have a point, except for the naïve part. I'm not a damsel, I can defend myself. Though watching the two of you duel would be a sight to behold.” She teasingly runs a finger up and down his chest.

“You make me bloody insane, lass,” he mumbles. She musters the cutest smile she can, even biting on her lower lip. He groans and steps closer to her just as Bae returns.

“I have the dagger here, would you like to inspect it?’ She happily takes the dagger in her hand by the hilt, twisting the blade around in the sunlight. It shimmers radiantly.

“It’s gorgeous! Well done, sir!” The blacksmith beams as he wraps it up for her.

“Listen, don’t be a stranger. It’s always a pleasure to see your beautiful face.”

“Thank you,” she replies.

“Yes, well, we must be off, goodbye.” Killian hastily tugs her by the arm until they are out of earshot from Bae. “You are an incorrigible flirt, highness!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“I’ve seen bar wenches who have more tact than you!” She laughs until her lungs burn and she’s gasping for air. “Oh, I’m not teasing.” _He’s totally teasing._ “That finger stroking move without a follow through is just cold, you can’t do that to a man!” She grabs on to the lapels of his jacket and pouts her lips.

“Forgive me, Captain Jones, I don’t know what’s come over me. How can I ever make it up to you?” she taunts. Suddenly his expression turns serious. She feels regretful of leading him on with her flirting.

“You could give me a honest chance, Emma. Let me court you while I’m here in Misthaven. At least until you’ve received word from your “betrothed.” The bastard may have changed his mind by now, or your messenger bird may have been eaten alive before delivering your letter.” Those damn baby blues penetrate her soul and she knows he’s totally serious with his proposition. “What’s a handful of days in the grand scheme of things, darling.” She almost agrees and deep in her heart she wants to. Her common sense wins out, knowing that princesses and pirates do not have futures together, especially ones who have no desire to plant roots..

“I thought we were friends, Killian?”

“Friends don't usually feel their friends undulating above them. Is that what you truly want?” Emma feels herself flush crimson from the memory. She wants so much more from him, more kisses, more passion, more skin. She wants to make him come undone. Of course she can't tell him this and she has always been a terrible liar, so she chooses to deflect.

“I don’t court younger men.”

“What!?”

“You said it was recently your twentieth birthday, I’m months past twenty-one.”

“You’re going to let a year of life come between us?”

“No, royal duties will come between us.”

“Ah, yes. We’re back to that shite!”

“I must marry and produce heirs, Killian.”

“I can give you children, Emma. It doesn’t take marrying a prince to do that. You just tell me how many.”

“I mean legitimate ones, not the bastards of a pirate who refuses to settle down. We are at an impasse.” Her words are harsh, but it's too late to retract them. He looks stricken, hurt, and irreparably broken. His complexion is even pale.

“Look, I’m not asking for forever. I just want to spend more time with you before I leave Misthaven. I want more than friendship, though. I want to be able to hold you and kiss you and-”

“You slept with my maids!”

“I didn’t touch them, Emma! Surely you know that! You’re digging for excuses at this point, and they’re pretty thin. I’m begging you for a chance.” He gets on both knees and she doesn’t miss how unsteady he is, or the way he closes his eyes. “Please, love?” By now they’re drawing quite a crowd, no doubt speculating that he is a love interest, instead of a guardian. She whispers through gritted teeth. 

“If I say I’ll think about it, will you get off your knees? You’re making a scene.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll think about it.” He grins wildly and stands, placing a light peck on her cheek.

After the begging incident, they complete Graham’s list with ease. A few shops down Killian buys her a rose from a flower vendor and buys another for a little girl who’s watching nearby. Her heart melts a little as he presents it to her, until she realizes he didn’t bring any coins with him.

“Hey, you stole from me, didn’t you?” She punches his arm.

“Forgive me, your purse was so full, I didn’t think you’d notice. I’m a pirate after all.”

“How did you even do that without me noticing?”

“Easy, you were distracted by my charm.”

“Give it back.”

“No.”

“Now, Killian!.”

“Make me!” Their arguing is interrupted by the apothecary.

“Princess Emma, who is your gentleman?”

“Oh, this is Killian Jones, he’s my guardian for the day. Killian, this is Lily.”

“Charmed, miss.” 

“Princess, do come in. Your mother’s order is ready.” They enter the shop, no more than a tiny hut, really, as the woman wraps up a few bottles for her.

“He’s very striking for a guardian, your grace. Forgive my boldness, but you’ve never looked at Graham like that.”

“Yes, well. Killian won’t be visiting long, I thought he needed a tour of the kingdom.” She speaks softly to Emma, so Killian can’t hear.

“Do you need any other _elixirs_ while you’re here?”

“Oh, ah, well…” She looks over at Killian who is pilfering through bottles, lost in his own little world. He uncaps one and sniffs, wrinkling his nose in disgust. He looks up to meet her eyes and smiles. It’s a sweet boyish smile, making him look more like an innocent child and less like a villainous pirate. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.” Lily claps her hands and squeals, while wrapping up the bottle for her, giving her the direction of three drops in her nightly tea.

As they head back to the square, he whispers to her.

“I know what you purchased, you cheeky little thing. So, you don’t desire me, huh?”

“This elixir has nothing to do with you. You forget I’m soon to be married. They may not have such things in the Northern Isles.” He halts, the blood draining from his face.

“Bugger! Did you say Northern Isles?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck!” He runs his fingers through his hair. 

“What’s the matter?”

“I was born there.” This prospect excites Emma, maybe he can give her information on her future home.

“What can you tell me about it?” Instead of a reply, his warm demeanor changes yielding to something cold and unforgiving.

“The king is a complete prick!” he spits.

“Oh.”

“Why do you think I left? It’s a shithole. The people are starving, dying in the streets, yet the king does nothing to help them.”

“Mom says the king isn’t well.”

“Aye. His passing will be a mercy to his people.”

“Killian, don’t say that! It’s treasonous," she whispers.

“Then he’ll have to string me up, because it’s the truth. Why would your parents want to align themselves with a kingdom like that?”

“Their navy is renowned among the realms.”

“Seeing as I was a contributing member of that navy, I’ll accept the gratitude.”

“So that explains the head bowing and hand kissing. You’re an educated man.”

“Educated enough to get the fuck out of there. The king can-he c-can...” He walks two steps ahead of her and his legs begin to wobble. She reaches out to steady him.

“Woah, woah, woah, you need to sit.” He pulls away from her.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You haven’t had any coloring on your cheeks since this morning.” She helps him to the ground, just as his skin goes pale and clammy. “When did you last eat? Killian? Stay with me, Killian!” She feels his body go limp in her arms. “No, no, no!” She runs back to Lily and with the help of some villagers, they get him to a cot in the back of her shop.

“Your highness, what’s going on?” Lily asks. The princess is left no choice but to divulge her tale of the wayward pirate.

“Emma! That’s incredibly dangerous. His pulse is so weak, he should be in bed!”

“Is there anything you can give him, Lily?” Lily hurries to the back of the shop and comes back with a small black stone and a container of liquid with a pinkish tint. She places the stone on his forehead and rubs the liquid on the tip of his nose and lips. His eyes blink open almost instantly. 

“Killian, it’s Lily. You aren’t able to get up, but don’t panic. You passed out in the square. I just need you to lie here and take deep breaths, okay? Blink twice if you understand.” Two soft blinks escape him. Lily listens to his chest and shakes her head.

“Emma, I wish you would’ve called me sooner. It sounds as if he’s still got water in his lungs. Who tended to him yesterday?”

“Victor.”

“Well, there’s your problem. The man doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground." She gathers up some medical supplies, while cursing under her breath. "Just promise me that I’ll get to deliver your babies one day. I wouldn’t trust Victor Whale with my dog.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to come to the Northern Isles for that task, Lily. As of yesterday, I’m engaged to their prince.” Lily looks at her with confusion and pulls her away to a private corner of the room.

“Emma, are you serious? The prince is missing! They think he was kidnapped by pirates and they fear him dead!”

“What!?”

“You didn’t hear it from me, but yeah. His ship was attacked by pirates and last seen near Glowerhaven.”

“Oh, Gods, Killian! What if it was Killian? He has issues with that family.” She grounds herself by squeezing her friend's arm.

“Then I’d say you're no longer engaged, Emma.”

"I'm serious, Lil! Now, more than ever, it’s imperative that I keep his identity a secret. The right thing to do would be to report him to father, but I don’t have the heart. He would be hanged and I would never forgive myself." She knows what piracy entails, but never pictured him a killer. Murderer or no, she’s not sure she wants to live in a world without Killian Jones.

"Your secret's safe with me, Emma. Just be careful."

“Lily, come with us to the palace. We need help getting him back safely.”

“Emma, there isn’t time, I need to drain his lungs immediately. Then, I can give you specific instructions on how to care for him properly at the palace. You must follow my orders exactly.” Emma nods. 

“I need to fetch Graham. He can return home for the carriage.”

“Good idea. Your pirate won’t be riding horseback for awhile.”

``````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

It’s the longest afternoon of her life. Four hours! It takes four hours to get him back to his room. He’s alive though, and Lily assures them his chest cavity is completely clear. He has strict instructions not to leave his bed. Emma sits upon her boulder, the setting sun warming her back. Graham eases himself beside her.

"Well that was an arduous day! Your pirate is an awful lot of trouble." He nudges her side.

"You're telling me. Ruby seems lovely. I'm happy for you, Graham."

"Thanks. We had a nice visit. How was market?" She is sick of mind games and goes straight for the kill.

“I heard that my betrothed is likely dead.” She feels his shoulder tense beside her.

“Just missing as of now. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you." He wrinkles his nose, expecting a proper scolding.

“But, that’s why you’re going to Glowerhaven, to look for him?” He thinks before answering, clearly deciding if his loyalties lie with his king or his best friend.

“There are things I can’t tell you, things you can’t know yet.” She tightens her fingers into fists.

“That’s bullshit! I have a right to know! I heard pirates are involved. Does this have anything to do with Killian?”

“Maybe.”

“What kind of an answer is that?” He pats her leg in an effort to calm her, but deescalating the princess has never been a strength of his.

“Emma, this is a delicate matter. All of the nearby kingdoms received word from the king of the Northern Isles that his son went missing a few days ago, with pirates most likely at fault.”

“Do you think Killian did this?”

“No. Something doesn’t add up, but it doesn’t matter what I think.”

“Will you let me know what you find out?”

“Yes, you know I will.”

``````````````````````````````````````````````````````

She lies awake that night with her mind more jumbled than her heart. She can’t picture Killian having an aggressive side, not angry enough to kill. To her, he’s a big gooey marshmallow with doey eyes and a penchant for flirting. She could see, however, the hurt and anger boiling within him. What has the king done to wrong him? Why would he join the kingdom’s navy if he detests them so much? Emma knows that sleep will evade her, so she once again slips from her bedchamber. This time looking for answers.

She enters his room without a sound. The fire is roaring yet again and he’s snuggled in tightly. When she shuts the door, he awakens.

“Love, is-is t-that you?” _Totally groggy._ Lily mentioned her elixir had side effects. _No answers tonight._

“It’s Emma.”

“Tat’s who I me-mean.” She walks over and feels his head. 

“You’re a little warm, sailor, why don’t we take some of these covers off?”

“Are ya gettin' in with me?”

“No, I hadn’t planned on it.” He pitifully reaches for her hand, missing contact each and every time, until she takes pity on him and links their fingers. He instantly relaxes.

“Tat’s better. I need you, love. P-please get in. I’m b-beggin' ya.” His face looks so broken that she locks his door and removes her robe.

“This is a terrible idea, Jones.”

“No, itsss not.” She checks her reflection in the dresser mirror before climbing into the opposite side of the bed.

“Damn, it’s like the surface of the sun under all these layers!” She hurls three heavy blankets off the bed and lies down beside him. She pushes his hair out of his eyes.

“You really do need a haircut.”

“Tis okay. I like it longer. Momma liked it th-that way. She would’ve liked you, lass, because I like you a lot. You’re pretty and kind and so clever.” He nestles closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and breathing her in. “Smell good, too, clean, like lavender.”

“Thanks.” She strokes his hair and his eyes droop shut only to pop open again.

“Emma, don’t go to the Northern Isles. We can run away, make our own kingdom. Did you know I like you?” He strokes her cheek with his knuckles while she relaxes into his touch and closes her eyes. She wills her droopy eyes to remain open.

“I like you, too, Killian. Why can’t I go to the Northern Isles?”

“Terrible place, it’s only death and pain. You’re sunshine.”

“Do you know Prince William?”

“Y-yes. Tall, proud, stick up his arse.”

“He’s missing, ya know?”

“Hmm, didn’t think he ever left his daddy’s side.”

“Killian, did you take him?”

“No, why would I want that wanker? I’d take you though. We’d s-sail away from this place and never look back. We could find our own island, we could eat coconuts and make babies.” She smiles at his confessions.

“I didn’t think you wanted to get married?” He tucks her hair behind her ear and she swears she’s drowning in those earnest blue orbs.

“I’d marry you, Emma,” he whispers. Her stomach flips at the confession and she’s dying to claim his lips, but knows it wouldn’t be fair while he’s suffering the side effects of a medication. “The bottle lady thinks I’m striking. Do y-you?”

“I do, you’re the most striking man I’ve ever met.” He takes in a deep breath and slowly releases it.

“I want to feel you m-move beneath me, feel you around me, want to touch every part of you, kiss every inch of you, but I c-can’t...because you're not mine.” His words nearly break her. For the first time in her life, she considers a life that doesn’t involve palaces and dresses and balls, but a simple life by the sea.

“Shhhh, just hold me, okay.”

“Mmm-kay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was originally more to this chapter, but I opted to end it here. Does anyone think that Killian actually kidnapped the prince?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma accepts her feelings for Killian, while he is torn between his wants and being an honorable man.

For the second consecutive morning, she awakens in the safety of his arms. Sighing and snuggling deeper into his embrace, she relishes in the solid press of his bare chest against her back. He allows a light kiss to linger between her shoulder blades and she hums in response. When he weakly attempts to pull away, she yanks his arms tighter around her waist. 

“Don’t move yet, please. And don’t talk.” She feels his chest rumble with stifled laughter.

“Love, I’m truly sorry, but I desperately need to relieve myself.” She reluctantly releases him with a huff.

“See, you ruined the moment.”

“A man must do what the bladder commands.” He extricates from her grasp and tries to stand, but the sudden movement sends him sprawling to the ground. 

“Easy sailor, you were on some pretty good meds last night.” She peeks over the mattress and winks at him.

“Must’ve been. The last I remember, we were standing in the village square.” He slowly rises and struggles to the chamber pot one careful step at a time. She looks at him expectantly, but he signals for for to avert her gaze. “I can’t go while you’re watching me, Emma!”

“Gross. You had to make it awkward, didn’t you?” She buries her head under the pillows and sings loudly to herself until she feels a soft palm return to her back.

“Well, that’s enough of that, love. Singing isn’t a virtue of yours, is it?” She emerges from her feathered sanctuary and squints at him as he fails to bite back a chuckle. “I'm teasing, lass...sort of.” She sits up fully, crossing her arms over her chest. She feigns annoyance by sticking out her tongue. This gives her the full opportunity to appraise her bedmate. His chest is on full display, and she is ever thankful for the steady rise and fall of it. He's yet a little pale, his lips are chapped, and she doesn’t think she’s ever seen worse morning hair in her life, but his eyes are hauntingly blue. She's suddenly startled how at ease they are with each other; no walls, no pretenses, just a boy and a girl enjoying each other’s company. This simple domesticity makes her yearn for every morning to begin like this one. “Emma,” he softly asks, breaking her reverie. “Why are you in my bed this morn?” She stutters a bit, not fully prepared to answer this question.

“You overdid it yesterday and you passed out in the village square. Graham and I brought you back to the palace by carriage. You haven’t been eating properly, not to mention you still had sea water in your lungs, so you’re on bedrest until I deem otherwise. Don't fret, I can bring you your meals.”

“Will you bathe me as well?” _He’s back._

“No, I’m not your mother.” Judging his stricken look, she has inadvertently hit a nerve.

“Aye. My mother passed a year back.”

“Killian, I'm so sorry! You mentioned her last night.”

“Did I? That's strange, I don’t talk about her much. She was a wonderful woman that I miss dearly. She kept me on my path, taught me how to be a good man. Not every lesson I heeded, though." He is lost in wistful thoughts that he quickly shakes himself out of. "But, you didn’t answer my question. Why are you here?”

“Maybe you begged me to.”

“I did not!”

“You did too!”

“Why would I do that? I've never been reduced to begging.”

“Honestly, you were quite groggy, I don’t think you knew half of the things you were saying. I suppose I felt sorry for you.”

“Sounds legitimate. I tend to be clingy when I'm inebriated, too. What else did I speak of, besides my mum?”

“I’ll never tell.” She sounds every bit like a petulant child until he hovers over her, pressing her backward ever so slowly against the mattress. He pauses, drinking in the sight of her, until he swiftly pins her arms above her head. He locks her in place with one hand, while the other trails softly down her side. On instinct, she lifts her leg and rests it on his hip with a moan. His fingers inch under her gown, tracing delicately up her thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He smiles wickedly at her.

“You see, princess. This is why we can never be friends.” He presses a light kiss just below her left ear, causing the air to whoosh out of her lungs.

“I’m not the one who suggested friendship, pirate.” He presses a second kiss to the same spot, this time letting his mouth linger.

"I had to suggest something to keep you in my life, if friendship was all you had to offer, I'd take it. I just happen to think there's more you want from me." His words strike her like a brick, he's correct, and both of them know it. He moves his kisses to the opposite side of her neck, laving equal attention. 

“I thought you weren’t going to kiss me again until I asked?” She sounds breathy and desperate, hardly recognizing the rasp of her own voice.

“That is just your sweet lips, darling. The rest of you is fair game.” He kisses down her throat, stopping just above her heaving breasts. When he pulls away she whimpers. “What? Do you wish me to continue, princess?”

“Y-yes, please.” He smiles and releases her arms, which immediately anchor themselves to him, one threads through his hair, while the other finds purchase above his breastbone. She tenderly strokes his chest with her fingertips until he stops her ministrations. She pulls him down to her, just shy of connecting their lips.

“Ah, ah, ah! First, I need to know how I’ve incriminated myself. I didn't divulge anything too embarrassing I hope.” He sits up, propping his head against the headboard with his arms behind his head. _T_ _his man has the self control of a monk._

“Nothing too dastardly; you needn't concern yourself. It was mentioned that I’m lovely and smell like lavender.” He shrugs.

“Certainly true, continue.” She crawls over to him on all fours, knowing full and well he can see entirely down the front of her gown. She's slightly disappointed by his solitary and brief downward glance.

“You said you like me, a lot.” She straddles him and they both gasp when she’s fully seated, his eyes darken three shades but his composure doesn't waiver. If it weren't for the rock hard evidence beneath her, she'd swear he was completely uninterested in her advances. But, the proof of his desire is there, warm and waiting beneath a simple layer of linen.

“Also true.” She winds her arms around his neck, locking them tightly in place as she rolls her hips forward. Even his steel resolve can't hide the unintentional hiss as he bites his lower lip and grabs her hips.

“You said you want to marry me, eat coconuts, and make babies.” He blushes and rubs behind his ear, leaving himself momentarily vulnerable, but the scoundrel façade quickly snaps back into place.

“I'm astounded by the delusions of single women.” She grabs a handful of hair and yanks his head backward, leaving cords of his neck on full display. 

“I don’t care if you’re healing, I will slap you into next week, Jones!” He laughs, roughly squeezing her hips with both hands and pulling them forward. It's now her turn to latch onto his pulse point. She lacks his care and finesse and will undoubtedly leave a bruise, but his whispered expletives are worth it. She pulls her lips to his, but he turns at the last second and she’s met with the scruff of his cheek. “What are you doing?’

“You didn’t ask!”

“For the love, Killian! Kiss me, already!” He smiles brightly and brushes his lips against hers. She feels a growing warmth fill her chest. It radiates down her limbs, eliciting a pleasant shiver. The kiss is soft, gentle, and unhurried, but she feels more emotion in this single kiss than she ever thought possible. The moment his tongue drags across her lower lip, it lights a spark deep within her. She can't get enough of him as she relinquishes control. He growls, flipping her to her back, while he sits on his knees to remove her nightgown. It's bunched up to her waist when a loud rumble echoes throughout the room; his stomach chooses this moment to make a different hunger known. Her eyes go wide with embarrassment as she places a gentle hand on his belly.

“You must be hungry. I need to see about getting you breakfast.”

“No need, it’s fine.” He presses kisses to her abdomen as her body relaxes beneath him, when his stomach rumbles again. She chuckles knowingly, cupping his cheeks and gently urging his face to hers. 

“I won't be the reason you can't recover properly. I’ll be right back.” She tugs her gown down and rolls out of bed, leaving him whimpering with need. She bites her lip and opens the bedroom door, shocked to see Granny on carrying a tray on the other side. She shrieks, cupping her mouth in surprise.

“Oh, Princess Emma, you’re up early.” She eyes her up and down, scolding her with her furrowed brows. “Tell me, when has your nightgown become your wardrobe item of choice, little miss?”

“Since she met me,” Killian boldly states. Granny mumbles under her breath and places the tray on foot of his bed. She proceeds to slap him on the back of the head.

“Boy, just because the ocean failed to take your life, doesn’t mean that I will! Princess, has he been honorable with you?”

“Yes, Granny. Killian has been a perfect gentleman.” She shrugs on her robe and takes one last look at her pirate. She wants to return to bed and kiss him until he's breathless, but thanks the Gods that things didn't progress any farther, lest they would've been caught by Granny.

“Good. Let’s be off with you then, Emma.” Granny takes her by the arm, walking her down the hallway. She ushers her into the study and tosses a green gown to her. “Here, slip this on, I’ll help you lace it. If you're not dressed for morning meal they'll come looking for you.”

“Granny, you’re a lifesaver!”

“No sense in stirring up needless drama. But, you need to be more careful with your sleepovers." The old woman nimbly laces her up and begins to braid her blond curls. "You should also know I found that amber bottle that was mixed in with your mother’s apothecary order.”

“Shite!”

“No need to worry, I put it in your bureau so your mother wouldn’t find it. I take it you're being intimate with that boy?”

“No! I haven’t.”

“But, you’re planning on it?”

“The thought had crossed my mind, if I’m honest.” Granny sighs. “Do you have any questions on the matter?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Well, I appreciate the precautions you’re taking at least. And if you do have questions, there is a wealth of information in the library.” The older woman cups Emma’s cheeks. “You love him, don’t you?”

“I-uh, no. You can’t love someone after a few days, right?”

“If the answer is no, someone needs to tell that to the boy, because he didn’t get the message!”

`````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

After an excruciating midday dress fitting, she finds herself on her favorite library settee. She tucks her legs under her and dives into her book. Page after page she soaks in the information on the pages until the floor inside the library creaks. She looks up and sees him. He’s slightly out of breath but he has clearly bathed and groomed himself. In short, he looks delectable.

“Please, don’t stop reading on my account. I detest being interrupted while buried in the pages of a good book, or a good woman for that matter.” She rolls her eyes as he unceremoniously plops down beside her. 

“What part of “stay in bed” did you mishear?”

“Oh, I didn’t mishear, I just didn’t listen. There is nothing of interest in that room. Besides, after a beautiful princess promised to feed and bathe me, she left me utterly aroused and to my own devices. Thank the Gods your maid Ashley came to help me.” He wiggles those damned eyebrows, but she doesn't take the bait.

"Don't start, Jones. You're not funny!" She stretches her legs out to rest her feet upon his lap, but never looks up from her book. He drums on his knees and she can feel his gaze through the pages.

“What are you reading that has you so captivated?” He flips the book up to inspect the cover. “ _Wedding Etiquette?_ Bleh! Sounds dreadful.” He starts to expound, but she leans over and places her finger on his lips. 

“Just. Stop. Libraries are for solace.” She peeks over her book and giggles at his pout. For a precious few minutes, they sit in companionable silence, until he coughs to get her attention.

“Darling, did you tell me you’re engaged to the prince from my homeland, or did I dream it?”

“I am. Prince William.”

“Fuck, I was hoping that was a feverish dream.” She places her book on her lap.

“Do you remember what I said last night? About the prince’s disappearance?”

“Was this before or after coconuts?” he teases.

“I’m serious.”

“No, last night is a blur. But, Ashley was discussing it earlier.” She can see him squirm uncomfortably beside her. "As I said, I'd hoped it was a dream."

"Why?"

"It complicates matters quite a bit."

“Listen, I wish no ill will on him, but I'm a little relieved. It is quite possible I am a free woman.”

“Nonsense, you’ve always been free, Emma. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. You and only you control your fate, darling." He smiles. "Starting with finding better reading material.” He takes the book from her hand and she’s mortified when a smaller hidden hardback thumps to the floor. 

“Here, I’ll get it!” She exclaims and reaches for the book, but he beats her to it.

“What have we here…” She lunges at him, desperate to stop his retrieval, but he turns and keeps it out of reach. “ _The Joys of Copulation?_ What kind of filthy publications do you have in this library!?” 

“Just give it back! It’s research!” He flips his back to her, tucking the book from her grasp.

“Research for what!? I’m fairly certain no man I know can bend like this fellow. Though, I think I could pull off page six.” He points exaggeratedly to an illustration within its pages. She’s thoroughly embarrassed to the point of tears.

“Killian, please. Just give it back.” When he sees her eyes well up, he returns it to her. He gently tilts her chin.

“Emma love, you don’t need this damned book. People have been intimate for hundreds of years and they’ve fared just fine without fully labeled diagrams.”

“I just have limited knowledge on the subject and I want to be prepared.” He scoots closer to her.

“You do realize that there will be another person present, aye?”

“Yes, but-”

“But, nothing. We Northern Isles boys know what we’re doing. I-er, the prince, will take care of you, lass.” She fidgets next to him, fiddling with some lace on her gown. 

“Killian, surely you know it has to be you. You are right, I do desire you. I'm tired of fighting it. We could be together, if only for a few days."

"Darling, I'm flattered, but..."

"I’ve given it thought and my answer is yes.” He scratches his head.

“Wait. What was the question?”

“About courting me?” Many emotions pass through his facial features, shame, hurt, disappointment, even a touch of frustration.

“Oh, that." He looks to the floor. "I’m afraid I have to retract my offer.” She abruptly stands, hurt and anger coursing through her. This is what she gets for being vulnerable and taking chances.

“What!? After getting on your knees and begging me? After this morning?!”

“I'm so sorry, Emma. I was weak. You’re engaged to my kingdom’s prince, that changes everything.”

“You're sorry?! You’re a pirate, I thought you served no king!” He stands toe to toe with her.

“You are the future queen of my homeland! While I don’t wish upon you the headache of restoring that kingdom, I would return to serve _you_. The people need someone kind and benevolent to heal the land and you are exactly what they need. I can’t take that from them." He lowers his head as she feels the tears pool in the corner of her eyes once again. "Mother wouldn’t want that.”

“What if they can’t find him?”

“They’ll find him. I promise you that. Just don’t judge me too harshly when you take the throne. Have mercy on this misguided rogue, promise?” She nods, tears streaming down her face.

"What about us?" She musters enough strength to comb some dark strands out of his eyes. He is on the brink of tears, too, shattering her heart even more.

"I'll pledge my fealty to you, my princess, but that's all I can offer." She feels as if the air has been sucked out of her lungs as he walks away. _So, this is what a broken heart feels like._ _If this is the result of loving someone, I'm better off in a loveless marriage._ _At least they could never hurt me._ She hides away in her room for the rest of the night, feigning illness. She imagines that he is hiding from her, too. 

``````````````````````````````````````````

She doesn’t see him again till midday the next day. She is hollow and defeated in a way she has never known. No one understands sacrificing your wants for the needs of a kingdom better than she, but his words broke her. Unfortunately, you can't wish away affections and she yet harbors strong feelings for him. She finds him examining the paintings in the great hall.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I’ll leave, Killian.” He tenderly takes her arm.

“No need, lass. I’m sorry about yesterday, I’ve been sick about it, really. I’ve behaved appallingly with you and I should never ever have suggested courtship while you were spoken for. My father always said I was selfish.”

“Where is he?”

“Back home. We’re estranged. We never got on, but after mother passed, our relationship became nonexistent.”

“Why do you hate the king?”

“I don’t wish to dwell on hatred, Emma. He is unusually cruel and unfit to serve, that's all you need to know. When he passes I will return to my kingdom, now that I'll have someone to pardon me for my shortcomings.”

“Is Prince William a cruel man, too? If so, I will end the engagement as soon as he’s found.”

“No, Emma. You will be cared for, I promise.” He cocks his head at a painting depicting a bald infant.

“That is me as a baby.”

“I figured as much. You were an ugly little thing!” She playfully slaps him and he winks. 

“I was, not a hair to be found.” She links her arm in his and leads him to the other side. “This is my Grandma Ava and Grandpa Leopold.”

"Ah, your brother favors him."

"He does. I never met my grandmother, but she and mom were really close." They walk down the corridor arm in arm as she tells him of her family history. It doesn't take long for them to slip into their natural banter.

"So, you're a naval man turned pirate, tell me of your greatest adventures."

"You don't want to hear of those tales, surely."

"Humor me." He smiles.

"Well, it begins with my twentieth birthday celebration-"

"I know that one!" She bumps his shoulder as they walk.

"Emma, no matter what happens, you have been my greatest adventure." Her heart melts into a big gooey puddle as he takes both her hands in his and kisses her wrists. While doing so, two of the maids start whispering to each other. Emma abruptly drops her hands. He catches on and stops her.

“What’s wrong?” She jerks her head toward the palace workers. “Them? Darling, you always care too much about what people think.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do!” He taps the tip of her nose with his finger. “I couldn’t give two shites about what those bitties are saying. As a future queen you must be confident of yourself. Hold your head high. Be moral and just and fuck the lot of them.” Her eyes bulge. "Not literally of course."

“I just don’t like people whispering about me. I never have.”

“They're whispering about me, lass, but you are the princess, you could speak to them."

"And get the reputation for being a cold hearted nag, no thanks."

"If a mere pair of linked arms and touching hands excite them, then they need to get a life. They wouldn't know a proper scandal if it bite them on the arse. Do you want to put them in their place?”

“Killian, I don’t know. How?”

“I know exactly what to do, if you don't mind playing along with a pirate for the next couple of minutes.”

“Fine.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes.”

"Alright, remember your promise of forgiveness for my shortcomings." He takes her body and spins it to the opposite wall roughly pushing her against it, taking her breath away. The action sending tingles down her body. The thud prompts attention from the servants.

“Emma, I can’t take you here, darling, someone will see.” His hips press into her as she gasps. He winks and tugs her into the nearest room and slams the door. She looks to him curiously.

“Killian, what in the realms are you doing?” He smacks the door loudly with his palm, and moans. She would never admit the sound strikes her right between her thighs. He continues to pound the door with his fists in a repetitive rhythm, accenting each thump with a curse, hiss, or moan.

“Yes! Princess, right there! Oh, you always give it so good.” He sounds obscene and she doesn't know whether to be impressed or horrified. Objectively, his performance sounds authentic. “Oh, you want on your knees for the captain? Absolutely! Be a good girl and take it all this time.” That comment earns a very real arm punch from her. “Ow! Be gentle!”

“You are a prat, Killian Jones. I would never get on my knees for you or any man. This will only cause more gossip!”

“Who cares, you're leaving in a few months. You just have to own it. Let go!” She nods with a slacked jaw expression. “Louder darling, I can’t hear you!” he shouts. The next words he whispers just to her. “You need to contribute to our dalliance. Just scream words like _harder_ and _faster_. If you feel so inclined, screaming my name would work, too.”

“I am not saying any of those things!” she whisper yells at him.

“Just say them and I’ll (ahem) finish.”

“Fine, I can’t believe I’m doing this...harder...faster.”

“Darling, I could barely hear that and I’m in the same room as you.”

“Harder! Faster!”

“Yeah, I’ll give it to you harder princess. Does that feel good?”

“Yes!” She slaps the door twice herself. He twirls his finger signifying her to repeat the phrase. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” 

“Scream my name.”

“No.”

“Please, Emma. Humor me.”

“Killian!”

“Again.”

“Yes, Killian, yes!” His eyes bulge in surprise, clearly impressed with her performance.

“Emma!” His head slumps against the door while she contains her laughter with their palms. He counts to seven and puts his hand on the doorknob, but she swats it away. She shyly untucks his shirt and he raises a questioning brow at her. She responds by twining her fingers through his hair and vigorously tugging, giving off the freshly disheveled vibe. He whimpers when she releases him. “Your turn, love.”

He unties her hair tie and runs his fingers through her braid, freeing the blond curls. With shaky hands, he unties her chemise, running a finger across her collarbone. She gazes at him through heavy lids. The thick bravado of five minutes ago has vanished, leaving behind an awestruck puppy. Every fiber of her being wants this man, and she fears she will die from unfulfilled desire if he doesn’t kiss her soon. He does kiss her, but it comes in the form of a brush of lips to the back of her hand.

When they tumble out into the hallway, they stumble arm in arm down the direction they came. The scandalized maids can only stare wide eyed with their mouths agape. She stops and puts her hand on one of their shoulders.

“Wow, he’s even better than he looks. The parlor could use a scrub down, ladies.” Emma winks at them as they round the corner and disappear from sight into the hall of records.

“Yes! That was bloody brilliant, love!” Killian grabs her by the waist and twirls her around spinning her to lock eyes with him. “I’m so proud of you. I’ll bet they won’t whisper about the demure princess linking arms with a gentleman anymore. It's liberating isn't it, not be controlled by the expectations of others.” He uses his index finger to softly lift her chin. He looks at her like she’s hung the moon, and it warms her heart. His eyes keep darting to her lips and she can see the battle waging within him. She leans into him, ever so close.

“Killian, do you want me?” she whispers.

“I can’t-for propriety-”

“What happened to the man who said “ _Fuck propriety?”_

“He found out he was pursuing his future queen, and there is a shred of honor left in him.” She slides her hands slowly up his bare arms, feeling him shiver and delighting in his reaction. He closes his eyes with a shaky breath, his self control clearly hanging by a thread. When he opens them she winds her hands around his neck, running her fingers through the fine wispy strands.

“Do you want me?” she whispers. He nods, brushing their noses in the process. “Then take your own advice and let go, Killian.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, this is a terrible place to end things...


End file.
